Always and Forever
by Solarian Sunbeam
Summary: Takes place at the end of Season 4. Layla's loss has left her falling apart at the seams, with no one and nowhere to turn to. With no other option, she returns to the only place she ever felt truly safe - his arms. But is this really goodbye? Oneshot.


******Disclaimer: I do not own Winx Club or any of the characters in this story; however the Jell-O hypothesis is my own creation, which is yet to be tested. My friends and I haven't gotten round to setting Jell-O on fire - yet.**

**It has come to my attention that the number of Layla/Nabu fanfics are incredibly low. Whether you like them or not, it's a shame that there are only two pages of them, and dozens for the other canon couples. No seriously, two. ****Anyhow, being the thoughtful person I am, I've written a very fluffy Layla/Nabu oneshot to add to the (hopefully) growing collection of Layla/Nabu fics. Come on guys, don't make them feel left out. How could you do that to Nabu, after he died and everything?**

**As with every other story I've written, I hope you enjoy this little oneshot, and that it may inspire some of you budding writers to come up with your own Layla/Nabu fics to make a third page. Go on, you know you want to.**

**-Ryan.**

* * *

She couldn't do it. Every time she walked down a particular street, stopped at the bar for a drink, or caught the smell of salt water and coconut, she'd fall apart. Each day was a constant battle, for everyone's sakes. The girls looked up to her; she was the strong one, the one who never went down without a fight, the one who didn't need a man to be happy. In a way this made the whole situation worse, as if she wasn't allowed to grieve properly because it wasn't expected of her.

The girls were worried, she knew that. They had suggested packing away pictures, clothes, anything that carried his memory, but she simply ignored them. She wanted everything to stay where it was. A beautiful, white gold ring still hugged the wedding finger on her left hand, and she knew that when removed, you could see the words 'Always and Forever' engraved on the inside. She didn't want to take it off. It would stay where he'd placed it.

Mindlessly, she found herself walking through the park, away from the bar, away from her friends. Away from everything, and towards the place where she'd had the happiest moment of her life. _This is where he proposed…_

"Layla?" Her thoughts were interrupted by Helia's soft voice sailing over to her from behind, triggering the tears she'd tried desperately to hold in.

"I'm fine," she choked, not daring to turn around.

"It's okay." A set of pale arms wound around her shoulders, pulling her into a warm embrace. Unable to contain her sobs any longer, Layla buried her head in the crook of her friend's neck, allowing his long, dark hair to shield her face.

"You're lying."

"I don't lie," Helia smiled sadly, rubbing his hand gently on his friend's back to soothe her. "He'll wake up soon, you'll see. Morgana promised-"

"People have broken promises before!" Layla's voice was too weak, too high-pitched. "He's not waking up."

"He will," Helia whispered, shutting his eyes tightly so his own tears wouldn't fall.

"Where are the others?" Layla mumbled into Helia's shirt, which was now damp from all of the crying. She hoped he wouldn't mind.

"Back at the Frutti Music Bar. Klaus is treating them to free drinks."

"And Riven?"

Helia's throat closed up. "At the beach. He said he needed some alone time."

"Did Stella and Flora stop crying?"

"No."

This was a small comfort to Layla, it showed that she wasn't the only one torn up by all of this. She'd expected Stella to have a small weep, for the sake of being Stella, but Layla was forever grateful for the show of tears she'd put on to distract everyone from Layla's own grief. Bloom called it attention-seeking. Layla thought she was her saviour. Flora had never experienced loss so close to her before, and was more than happy to join Stella's chorus of sobs. The first night back in the apartment, when everyone else was asleep, Flora crept into Layla's room and crawled into bed, so the two could share their sorrow over boxes of tissues. Come morning, Stella was sprouting water like a broken fountain, giving Layla a chance to take refuge in the bathroom without causing suspicion.

Riven was different. Riven had gone unnaturally quiet, and had wandered away from the group a lot recently, to be alone with his thoughts. Layla knew the truth. Like herself, Riven was a rock that shouldn't crumble. But the death of a friend, a lover, a parent, a child, that's a weight even a mountain can't bear without showing some cracks. To maintain some dignity, Layla and Riven left their friends to cry for them in public, and allowed Stella and Brandon to go into the spotlight so they could get away and be alone. As a last-ditch attempt, Brandon and Timmy had started acting stupider than usual, in the hopes of getting some kind of reaction out of Riven: an insult, a slap across the head, an exasperated sigh, but instead there was nothing.

Layla knew how that felt, to feel absolutely nothing, yet everything at the same time. Food was tasteless, yet the mere mention of a mango smoothie would force her to excuse herself before breaking down. She couldn't go to the places she went with him. She couldn't do things they did together. She couldn't pick up her phone and check her messages without seeing 'Found low-fat frozen yoghurt on sale at the store, thinking it should be main course for wedding. Thoughts?', and knowing she'd been too late to reply. She couldn't stay here, period, where she was being smothered by memories of Nabu. She didn't want memories. She wanted him. She needed him.

She had to leave Earth.

"Go back to the bar," Layla instructed, wiping the tear streaks with the back of her hand. "Tell everyone I'm sorry." Without further explanation, Layla broke into a light jog, picking up the pace the closer she got to the apartment.

* * *

"The queen will see you now." Layla bowed her head respectfully at the guard who had led her to the throne room of the royal palace of Tir Nan Og. The great doors opened automatically, allowing Layla to step inside and face Queen Nebula, her ex leader.

"Layla," the queen smiled, offering the mocha-skinned fairy her hand. "It's so good to see you."

"You too, Your Majesty."

"Are you here to see him?" Layla gave a small nod. "I understand. Right this way."

Layla followed the queen down a dark tunnel into the depths of the palace, where Nabu was sleeping soundly in a dark chamber. Layla had argued that if he awoke in sunlight, it could harm his vision, though that hardly seemed to matter now.

"Any progress?" Layla finally managed to ask. Nebula shook her head. "Is he getting worse?"

"He's remained the same since the attack," Nebula sighed, pushing open a lilac door at the end of the corridor. "Maybe you can do something to rouse him."

"Maybe," Layla agreed uncertainly, stepping into the dark room. Nabu lay peacefully on a double bed, wrapped in silk quilts of deep violets and gentle amethyst. His breathing was slow and rhythmic, just like the last time Layla had visited only a few days ago. Nebula was right – he was exactly the same.

Nebula gave Layla a reassuring pat on the shoulder for support. "I'll leave you two alone."

Once the door had closed behind her, Layla fell to her knees, grabbing fistfuls of the silk duvet in her shaking hands. Frustrated, she began to tug the duvet from Nabu's slumbering body, willing him to make some movement. When he didn't, she threw the duvet in the air like a parachute and dove underneath, blocking out what little light there was in the room. The duvet settled over the two figures, sealing them away from the rest of the world. As a desperate final attempt to wake Nabu, Layla tangled her legs in his and took his hand, holding it close to her chest.

"Do you remember that time we stayed in bed all day, talking about absolute nonsense? You asked if Jell-O would melt or burn if you set it on fire, and when you realised that I thought you were kidding, you ran all the way to the closest store to buy some and test it out. It melted."

Tears started to well in her eyes at the memory, but instead of giving up, she continued. "What about that time I took you jogging along the beach, and when you challenged me to a race you cheated by flying? Then I got cramp in my legs and asked you to carry me, but instead of being a good boyfriend you threw me in the sea?"

Her throat was starting to contract, and it was hard to make out her fiancé from the tears blinding her vision. "What about the time we got locked in that cell on the squad ship last year, and I thought you were using a mind-reading spell to get along with me? And we started singing random lines from The New Waves' album? 'Feelings and love, signs from above' – wait, that's how you sing it, because you think feeling is more important than passion."

Layla's hands moved to his shoulders, tipping him onto his side so they could face one another. "Please," she whispered, her lips a breath away from his. "Wake up."

The kiss was what she expected it to be – lifeless. His lips were cold and dry, unlike the soft, warm, moist ones she was accustomed to. Nonetheless, she planted a second kiss on his mouth, as her way of saying goodbye. But before she could pull back, the very lips she were kissing pressed against hers so forcefully she thought they could push her away if they really tried. Instead they did the opposite, drawing her closer and closer, until she could take it no more and pulled the figure towards her. Two strong arms wound around her waist, hugging her warm body. One arm stayed at her hips, pressing her frame against his, whilst the other moved up her back so his hand could explore the scented tangle of her brown curls. Layla didn't want to open her eyes, afraid that this could all be a dream, but his voice coaxed her lids to flutter open. "I've missed you."

"It's you," she exhaled, unable to believe this was real.

"It's me," he chuckled, rolling onto his back and pulling her with him, so her head rested on his chest, letting her listen to the manic drumming of his heart.

"What… how…"

"True loves kiss," Nabu shrugged. "You can't mess with the fairy tales, you know."

"Did you hear everything I said?"

"Everything. I can't believe you remembered my Jell-O hypothesis! You said it was silly!"

"It was silly," Layla smirked, drawing patterns with her index finger across his stomach. "Tecna and Timmy would have snorted in your face."

"You remembered my favourite song-"

"_Our _favourite song," Layla corrected him.

"-And my modified lyrics!"

"How could I forget? You sung them the entire journey just to annoy me."

"It was funny because you felt like you had to correct me every five seconds." Nabu propped up on his elbows, making Layla's head shift onto a pillow. "Do you remember anything else?"

"I remember lots of things," Layla grinned. "Your favourite colour is blue, you don't like the taste of liquorice, you hate the smell of Sky's feet, you would like to buy a boat and sail across the sea of Andros for our honeymoon…"

"You're forgetting the most important thing."

"I am?"

Nabu nodded his head. "I love you."

"I love you, too," Layla kissed his cheek tenderly, allowing her lips to linger there a second too long to take in his familiar scent. "Don't you ever leave me again."

"I won't, I promise I'll stay with you."

"For how long?"

Nabu kicked the silk duvet to the floor, slipped the ring off of Layla's finger and held it up to the dim candlelight above the bed. _Always and Forever._


End file.
